


Just Something I Can Turn To (Somebody I Can Miss)

by taggianto



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Depression, Established Relationship, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Real Hockey Players mentioned, but not in a shippy way, supportive friends, vague references to possible self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggianto/pseuds/taggianto
Summary: Jeff's only been away for two days, is Kent really that clingy that he misses his boyfriend this much after two days?He's probably having a better time without you,the little traitorous part of Kent's brain tells him.





	Just Something I Can Turn To (Somebody I Can Miss)

Jeff's left him.

Well, no, that's not fair. Jeff's away in Denmark playing for Canada. The Aces were eliminated last week by the  _ fucking Sharks again _ and Jeff is in Denmark playing for Canada at Worlds and the US didn't want Kent. He's alone in his stupid fucking penthouse in stupid fucking Las Vegas and Jeff's not here and Kent misses him.

For fuck's sake, Jeff's only been away for two days, is Kent really that clingy that he misses his boyfriend this much after  _ two days _ ?

_ He's probably having a better time without you, _ the little traitorous part of Kent's brain tells him.

_ No. Jeff loves me, and he wishes I could be there too. Thinking he's better off without me is not based in reality. _ Kent squeezes his eyes shut and hugs a pillow closer to his chest.

_ He just says that because he knows you're broken and can't handle the truth. You don't deserve him, and he's gonna realize that. You're just a burden for him anyway. _

_ No, no, no, that's not right, he loves me, he  _ **_loves_ ** _ me, _ Kent thinks as hard as he can but all too soon that traitorous little voice engulfs him and he's shaking in his too-big bed.

He wakes again an indeterminate number of hours later, his eyes red-ringed and crusty, his back sore, and his phone buzzing. He groans and shoves his face back into the pillows and Kit takes that as her cue to jump onto his back and chirp in his ear.

"Not now, princess," Kent mumbles. Kit, unsurprisingly, is undeterred. Kent holds out for a few more minutes of being swatted in the face before he gives in. "Okay, okay! I'm getting up. Happy?" She trills as he starts to move and thumps off the bed, already headed for the kitchen.

Kent sits on the edge of his bed and breathes for a few minutes. The voice is quiet for now, but he knows it'll be back. It always comes back. He grabs his phone without bothering to look at it and heads out to the kitchen.

Once Kit is fed, Kent looks around. Theoretically, he should have something for breakfast. But even popping a bagel in the toaster sounds like too much work, forget cracking eggs to make an omelet. He settles for grabbing a sleeve of crackers out of a box and a bottle of water from the fridge and deposits himself on the couch.

There's nothing on TV.

Kent finally gets tired of scrolling through page after page of channel listings and settles on some sort of fishing show. It's mundane and boring and just background noise. He munches on his crackers and decides he should probably check his phone.

There's several text messages from Jeff which isn't unexpected since Denmark is nine hours ahead of Las Vegas and that means Kent's slept through most of Jeff's day.

**Jeff:** _ugh morning skates should be illegal_  
**Jeff:** _pancakes for brunch, score!_  
**Jeff:** _getting our headshots done rn_  
**Jeff:** _image attached_   
**Jeff:** _what do you think, eh?_  
**Jeff:** _oh, canada!_  
**Jeff:** _steak, again._  
**Jeff:** _it's 6pm here so I know it's at least 9am there. wake up, sleepyhead!_  
_Missed call from:_ ** _Jeff_** _[9:26am]_  
**Jeff:** _still sleeping, eh? well_ ** _some_** _of us have work to do :P_  
**Jeff:** _and by work I mean clubbing with the guys._  
**Jeff:** _team unity, eh?_  
**Jeff:** _IT'S REALLY LOUD IN HERE_  
**Jeff:** _look at this ridiculous milkshake croz got me. it's boozy!_  
**Jeff:** _image attached_  
**Jeff:** _okay i'm back at the hotel_  
_Missed call from:_ ** _Jeff_** _[12:43pm]_  
**Jeff:** _alright sleeping beauty. give me a call when you finally get up :P_  
**Jeff:** _I'll probably be asleep but it's ok_  
**Jeff:** _love you!_

Kent tosses his phone to the other side of the couch.  _ See? He's having a great time without you. Hanging out with Sidney Fucking Crosby and drinking and clubbing. If you call now you'll just interrupt his sleep and that'll fuck with his on-ice performance. _

_ But he said to call-- _

_ He's just saying that because he knows how needy you are. _

Kent's arguments against himself are getting weaker and weaker. He knows what he  _ should _ be doing right now. He should call Jeff, he should go for a run, he should make a list of little things Jeff does to show his love, he should call his sister, he should eat a real breakfast, he should, he should, he should. It would all help pull him out of this funk but…

But.

The fact of the matter is, he doesn't want to be pulled out of his funk. Sure, if he did any one of those things, it would make himself feel better, but he doesn't  _ want _ to feel better. He knows those coping mechanisms work, so he doesn't want to do them. Isn't brain chemistry fun?

Instead he stays on the couch with the blackout shades still drawn, the fishing show still droning on, his back still hurting, and his brain still running over all the ways he's worthless.

His phone buzzes a couple more times, then falls silent. Kent falls asleep again on the couch.

He's woken for the second time that day (day? Is it still day? maybe it’s the evening...) by his doorbell ringing incessantly. He groans and checks the time on his phone.  _ 8:24pm. _ So. Evening then. He notices a bunch more missed calls and texts from Jeff, but the doorbell keeps ringing and right now that's easier to deal with than his probably pissed-off boyfriend.

With a groan, he pushes himself up off the couch, dislodging Kit from her perch draped across his ankles. He gets a pair of eyes narrowed in his direction, then she closes them again and goes back to dozing.

The doorbell is still fucking ringing. "Alright, alright! I swear," he calls out, making his way to the door, "if you're here to tell me that Jesus loves me then you should know I'm hella fucking gay and going to hell for a large number of reasons aside from that, so you should point your evangelism somewhere else."

Kent squints through the peephole of his front door and groans. At this point, he would have welcomed some fucking Mormons over the motley crew assembled on his front porch. "Did Jeff put you up to this?" he asks without opening the door.

"Of course he did," comes Scrappy's voice. "Now open up or I'll just use the spare key he gave me and come in any way."

Kent thunks his head against the door twice before sighing and unlocking it. It opens to the sight of three large hockey players holding plastic shopping bags and boxes of pizza. "I can't believe he gave you his spare key."

"What can I say, Parse?" Scrappy grins. "Your boyfriend knows how you tick. Now let us in."

Kent steps aside and gives them an overdramatic sweeping gesture. "Be my guest. Not that I really have a say in the matter, I'm guessing."

"Nope!" Mickey says cheerfully as he squeezes in the doorway. The smell of melted cheese and greasy pepperoni wafts by as he passes and Kent's stomach grumbles. Collins brings up the rear with more grocery bags. Kent quickly closes the door before Kit can get any bright ideas and throws the lock.

Kent follows the sound of loud voices and rustling plastic to find them all in his kitchen, searching for paper plates and stowing ice cream in the freezer. Kent pulls out his phone and snaps a photo. Ignoring for now the numerous texts he's missed from Jeff, he sends it to him.

**Me:** _image attached_  
**Me:** _really, jeff?_

His phone immediately starts ringing. "Really, Jeff?"

"I was worried," Jeff says and okay, yeah, he can hear the worry in his voice. Kent winces. He can also hear noises in the background.

"Are you in the locker room right now?" Kent asks instead of responding to Jeff's worry. Easier.

"Yeah. I was supposed to be on the ice five minutes ago but Crosby told me to wait until I'd heard from you or the boys. I was really fucking worried, babe. You weren't answering your phone." Another pang of guilt.

"I'm fine," Kent says, but it's quiet and sheepish. 

He can practically hear The Look Jeff is giving him through the phone line. "And I'm the queen of Spain. Honey, we talked about this. What's going on?"

Kent sighs and ducks into one of the spare bedrooms. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing, babe. Please. Talk to me."

"I just..." Kent scrubs at his eyes. "I just miss you, okay? I'm whiny and needy and bored and there's no hockey to shut my brain up and I miss you." He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Pathetic, I know."

"It's not pathetic, Kent. You know it's just the brain weasels telling you that.” Kent lets out a snort at that. Jeff just continues. “It's not pathetic to miss me, because I fucking miss you too and I'm sure as hell not pathetic."

Kent hugs his free arm across his chest. "I dunno. You're not the one that's a whimpering mess after being apart for two days." 

"You didn't see me this morning. You had me worried sick, Kent. Even G was saying I looked green."

"I'm sorry." Kent feels about two feet tall at the moment.

Jeff sighs. "I forgive you. But Scrappy and the boys are gonna stay there tonight because I know you need to get out of your head right now. I'm sorry I had to leave so soon after we were eliminated, you know I hated having to do that."

"I know," Kent says, because he  _ does _ know. "I hated that you had to leave too."

There's a little bit of silence before Jeff speaks again. "Babe, if you need me to come home--"

"No!" Kent says immediately. "No, seriously Jeff. I know I acted like a shithead today but it's just... end of the season blues, y'know? I'm glad the boys are here, really. And I'm... I'm really fucking proud of you, okay? I know how much it means to you to play for Canada."

"It means a lot yes, but you mean more, okay? If you need me to come home, I will."

"I know you would, Jeff, but it's okay. Really,” Kent adds at a dubious noise from Jeff. “The boys are here now and I'll... I'll even call Shanna in the morning and set up an appointment, okay?" Kent bites his lip. He hates having to admit to needing extra sessions with his therapist.

"I think that's a good idea, babe. I'm proud of you, okay? I'll be home before you know it.”

Kent lets out a long breath, and gives in to a small smile. "Okay. You better have a gold medal around your neck when you get back."

That earns a real laugh from Jeff. "I'll try my best. Don't let Crosby hear you say that though, you know how superstitious he is."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, get out on the ice then before Captain Canada makes you skate laps or something."

"Okay. Call me if you need anything, okay? I'm leaving my phone with one of the trainers and they'll grab me if you call."

Kent wants to protest that he doesn't need to do that, that Jeff’s practice is more important right now, but he knows this is as much for Jeff's peace of mind as his own. "I will. I promise."

"Okay, good. I'm gonna go now. I love you, okay?"

"I love you too," Kent says quietly.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later then," Jeff says.

"Later. Love you."

"Love you too, bye." Kent hangs up and stares at Jeff’s contact photo for a little while.

His teammates have already started to devour the pizza they'd brought by the time Kent gets back out to the kitchen. "You animals couldn't even wait two minutes for me, could you? I swear, if you ate all the pepperoni..."

"Don't worry, Parse. We left you a whole box.” Scrappy grins as he talks through a mouthful of pizza. “How's the hubby?" 

Kent rolls his eyes. "He's not my husband."

"Yet," says Mickey, with an amused glance.

"Yeah," Kent agrees with a small smile. He grabs a slice of pepperoni from the box. "Yet."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks (pretty much as always) to the Parse Posse discord for the prompt and the cheerleading through it :D


End file.
